McDonalds
by pengirl100and2
Summary: Sitting at the window with his usual cholesterol dripping order, just who does America spy coming inside?


**Random story I've had sitting around here forever, gathering virtual dust and cobwebs. Well. Read and review? Enjoy, please!**

* * *

><p>America was at McDonalds.<p>

He was there a lot, actually.

Like, every night for dinner.

Anyways.

He got to the front of the line. The teenage girl with purple eyeshadow asked, "The usual, Alfred?" while her eyes sparkled in that hopeful please-please-notice-me way.

"Yeah," he said with boredom.

The girl called to the cooks behind her, "Big Mac, extra large fry, M&M ice cream sundae." Then she pulls a tall, skinny paper cup from under the counter.

Now, normally, there was nothing else to tell. He got his food, sat, and ate. But today was different.

The teenage girl fiddled with her bracelet. "So... You come here a lot."

"Mmm."

"I feel like I always see you here!"

"Hmm."

"So... Um... Hey... Do you wanna... Maybe go out with me... Sometime?" she asked nervously.

"What?" It came off sounding ruder than he meant.

"Um, I mean, no, it's just, well, there's someone else~" and ugh, it sounded like such a lie.

"I," she stressed, "don't care if there is someone else." He gagged. She handed him his plastic tray, and he threw her one last "No," before going to sit.

His usual table was taken, so instead he sat by the window. He chewed slowly watching the car go by, and he watched a gray car come to a stop at a red light. The car was about to crawl to a stop, when a back tire silently popped. Alfred watched with interest as the car turned into the McDonalds lot.

His heart jumped when he saw the licence plate's number. He knew that number.

He used to see it everyday.

The car door swung open and a man came out, red. Alfred couldn't hear him through the glass, but the man was kicking the dead tire and cussing to burn the ears off a general.

The man then looked up at the golden arches on the sign and gagged. He stood for a moment~ and Alfred knew that face, it was a thinking-face. The person outside was debating on whether or not to come in and eat.

His heart skipped a beat when the person sighed and trudged inside. The bell on the door was a gift from the Britannica Angel. He watched him inch through the slow line and eventually get to the front. The teen he'd rejected took his order and handed him a tray.

Alfred's jaw dropped. It wasn't a salad. It wasn't a wrap. It wasn't even McNuggets. He watched in disbelief as Arthur took the tray and his paper cup of iced tea (well, everything can't change at once) and sat in the booth across from him, oblivious to the country beside him.

Something built up in America and he sat in awe of this feeling. It was like magma pushing up trying to free itself from a volcano. The heat and color of a blush was rising up for no reason, and finally America exploded.

"IGGY LIKES BURGERS!" He screamed, and tackle/hugged England in the next booth.

"What the hell- no!- get off me, you bloody git!~" He tried to complain, but he was muffled by America's chest in his face, pinning him back on the seat. "Get off me!" He screeched, and pushed the younger country off.

The whole resteraunt stared as the two squabbled, but they didn't notice.

"OMG, I knew it, everybody likes burgers!" Alfred cheered, and grabbed the burger from the tray, holding it up like a gift to the gods wrapped in greasy, yellow, paper.

"You are making a scene," Arthur hissed.

"Too late. Burgers and fries! Burgers and fries! I knew that Iggy loved burgers and fries!"

"Bloody git. I hate the food here."

"You could have ordered a salad. You would have if you knew I was here. But noooooo, your true colors are revealed now, Arthur Kirkland! You got a burger, ha ha!"

"I had nowhere else to eat," he said for lack of better come back.

"Youuuuu liiikkeee burrrrrggeeerrrrsss," America sing/gloated.

"Shut up. I hate you."

"I love you too." He kissed the angry one's cheek and ran outside, leaving England alone, humiliated, and a small smidge near happy.

* * *

><p><strong>I realize the OOCness in putting Iggy in a McDonalds, but people, that's the entire point of my story. Please don't flame me with additional shame.<strong>

**Thoughts? Please review~!**


End file.
